


Cloak and Dagger

by Vegetacide



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Relationship(s), Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2020-07-30 14:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20098669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vegetacide/pseuds/Vegetacide
Summary: The Tracy family, the Hood,  nuclear material and the wrong side of the GDF.  A work in its infancy that may go to some interesting places.





	1. Intro - Pinned down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gumnut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/gifts).

> Dipping my toes into the deep end with this one... my first TaG fic and first ever post on here. Hopefully this will all go according to plan so keep your fingers crossed for me. As writing goes for me, there is a chance they take me in another direction from what I intended.. so bare with me.. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy and please let me know your thoughts. Creative criticism is more than welcome just please be gentle :) I will do my best to address any issues that might come up content wise. I am researching as I go a long as I go along so I may misstep here or there along the way. 
> 
> Just a special shout out to [**Gumnut**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut) for all the help and encouragement. I may have filled her message box full to bursting with all my uncertainty and she kindly put up with it without blocking my ass. :)  
:::Hugs from my side of the globe!:::
> 
> Next part will be up soon..

Intro - Pinned down.

The four blocks of veritable urban wasteland was a wreck of burnt, skeletal cars, shattered storefronts and once pristine architectural refuse. All amounting to a wartime visual showered in the artificial glow of tracer rounds and fusee flares.

It was almost suicidal to run through but options were limited. Dressed as they were in covert iR uniforms of matte black, the hope was that they would blend in with the play of shadows and make for harder targets to hit.. Though as Virgil glance to Kayo that logic seemed to have failed miserably. 

Adjusting his hold around her waist he pushed on, skirting around an obstacle of concrete the size of a small house and fumbling across an abandoned open-air market littered with smartering of pockmarked, cracked pavement and displaced patio furniture. Little to no cover was apparent between one row of shops and the sheltered safety of the Eurasion International Bank of Commerce but their options at present were few and far between.

Keeping low to the ground and zig zagging to lessen the chance of a sniper hitting something vital, the two made a run for it. Hobbled, panting with exertion, covered with dust, sweat and blood and well aware that reaching the protection of the thick walls of the financial institute was paramount to their continued corporeal existence this side of the afterlife. 

Someone, somewhere was apparently looking out for them whether it was the deity their Grandmother beseeched on a regular basis or some other force was not apparent but whatever the case their destination was reached. 

Stumbling through what was left of the brass plated, revolving doors the larger of the pair briefly checked the sit’rep displayed on his wrist com, grumbling out a quiet curse. 

“Still blocking our..comms?” Kayo asked with a grunt of pain as she was gently set down behind the tall, marble topped cashier’s counter. 

“Must be a communication suppression grid set up over the whole damn area - activate it just after we made contact.” Virgil pulled his helmet from his head, his dark hair damp with sweat. Crouching down, he pulled the dark, slimline hard case from his back and unzipped the main compartment. Spreading it wide, he placed it on the floor and snapped on a pair of black, nitrile surgical gloves. 

The matte black pack, engraved with the recognizable iR logo in its carbon fiber shell was a treasure trove of medical paraphernalia. Everything one would need when entering a rescue situation in a remote place, far from any medical establishment. Though, as Virgil wiped the sweat from his brow and pulled up a mental list of needed items to the forefront of his mind, he hadn’t expected it would ever come into use in a war zone. Or for that matter, that they would ever be in a warzone to begin with. 

Grabbing a sterile pack of gauze and a dose of morphine Virgil turned his attention to Kayo’s wound and set to work. Pulling open the collar of her uniform he pressing the open-weave cotton to the hole in her shoulder. 

“How ya doing?” His voice was rough, emotions being kept back with a fraying tether of restraint. 

“Peachy..” 

“Great to hear.” 

Taking her hand, he placed it over the wound and indicated she should keep pressure on it. Waiting a moment for her nod of understanding, he carefully re-positioned her so he could pull her sleeve down and off. A sigh of relief as he saw an exit wound. “Through and through..I can’t see if there is any fibres in the wound.” 

Her grunt was his only reply as he packed her shoulder with more gauze and ran a length around her torso to keep it in place. 

“It’ll hold for a bit but we need to get you out of here.” Bringing the pre-filled hypo up for her to see, he brow arched up in question. He knew she hated the stuff, the numbness and disassociation they caused tended to wig her out but considering the pain the offer was mandatory. The shake of her head wasn’t a surprise. 

Handing her the hypo, he closed her fist around it and gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “If you need this...use it, okay?” He saw the stubborn set to her jaw through her visor and didn’t wait for her response as he turned back to the kit at his knee. 

“You’re bleeding” Her voice was shaky with pain but with her colouring being what it was he could let it slide for now. She was responsive and coherent and there was no way he could get the both of them out of here without her help. 

“I know.” He was well aware of the burn of discomfort across his outer thigh, kinda hard to miss when you’d half carried, half dragged the solid, lithe weight of 120lbs through hell. “Just a graze” 

Looking down at the slowly oozing injury, his shoulder raised up on a shrug. “I’ll live.” 

“Good to know.” 

Virgil’s lips curled up in a lopsided grin and reaching out he broke the seal on her own helmet, placing it with his own. “‘I’ll be right back.” She scowled at this, grabbing his wrist to prevent his departure. 

“I’ll be okay, I’m just going to check for supplies and see if there is a back way out.” 

“I don’t like it..”

“You think I do?” Getting his feet under him, he peered over the top of the counter. “We are fucked if we stay here, and there is a potential to be fucked if we leave. Either way we are fucked but at least one option doesn’t leave us sitting ducks.”

He knew she had to agree with that as no further protest was forthcoming. Handing him an extra clip for the side arm she’d forced him to carry, her eyes met his. “Be careful” 

Virgil dipped his head in acknowledgment and slipped out of view on quiet feet.

TBC


	2. Sorely Coping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I break a character... oops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have jumped the gun... no beta.. so any errors are my fault completely. 
> 
> Enjoy the chaos that is my brain worm..

Chapter 1 (Several weeks earlier) Sorely Coping 

Kayo stepped into the dimly lit living space of the Tracy Villa, her eyes scanning around the large, open space. Her mind filing and sorted observational details at random in her quick, critical mind. Always assessing. 

The blast proof balcony doors were open fully on their anti-friction track, ever ready to be engaged with One’s launch sequence to protect the interior of the fine living space. The large opening allowing the evening breeze to carrying in the pleasant scent of night blooming jasmine and the salty brine of the South Pacific into the dwelling. 

From where she stood, Kayo could see the low, ambient light cast from a muted holo-vid in the recessed lounge reflecting off the slowly evaporating puddles on the veranda. The dark mass of storm clouds that had off loaded their watery burden having passed over the island earlier in the evening and now refuelling for it Eastern flight across the ocean. The black obscurity of it only now just letting the glow of the fully risen moon shine through. 

The storm had been short-lived and turbulent but the well engineered structure tucked amongst the rocky, volcanic stack had withstood many a test spewed forth by Terra Mater and this one like all the others prior would dissipate and be forgotten. The brief oppressiveness of humidity that weighted the atmosphere already beginning to lessen in the currents of cooler air pushing in from the West. By morning the island would be returned to its normal state of tranquil beauty. 

The familiar sound of Gordon doing late night laps in the pool drifting up from below caused Kayo to check the time. It was rather late for the athlete to be doing circuits though not completely unheard of. Even recovering from his near fatal crash in Four, they were hard pressed to try and keep him out of the pool once his casts had been removed. The only visible remnants of which was a knee brace that he grudgingly wore and some biodegradable stitches.

Kayo was aware that the aquatic expert’s physio was progressing well but even so it would be a while before he was fit for active rotation. The steady pace of him powering through the water was proof that he was bound and determined to speed that process up. Pursing her lips though, Kayo made a mental note to make sure the fish wasn’t over doing it to his detriment. Last thing they needed was an irate Lady Penelope. 

Pulling her mind back from her ruminations, she stowed the thoughts aware for later. One of her other tasks on the island was to aid with the physical condition or its inhabitants. Sorting out appropriate activities that were low impact enough for an injury during an operatives recovery was part of that. It was something she was going to have to work on with Gordon. The Fish knew his body and what he could tolerate better then anyone through so she’d have to take her cues from him. 

Taking a breath, she let the other island sounds envelop her as her tired frame got reacquainted with the peace of paradise. The chirping rhythm of the islands’ resident cicadas and the distant crash of the storm surge having an instant lolling effect better than any form of mediation she’d ever tried. 

After a moment Kayo registered the faint, tinny sound of music and she turned her head to zero in on its origins. Her brows dipping down as on quiet, leather soled feet she crept across the wood flooring.

Approaching the lowered circular arrangement of seats, her lips quirked as a solitary, sprawled figure came into view. One thick leg clad in soft, dove grey sweats hung off an arm rest, his socked foot dangling on the too short couch. His familiar plaid flannel riding up his solid torso, a hint of dark hair peeking out and disappearing into the low slung waist band. Watching his broad, muscular chest rising evenly in sleep brought a soft smile to Kayo’s lips 

Stepping into the recessed lounge, she popped the hidden closures of her nomex (1) flight jacket and pulled the fitted material from her shoulders. Shivering slightly as the night air met the skin left exposed by the singlet underneath. Jacket tossed on the circular table, she knelt on the strip of flooring adjacent to her other half. Virgil was well known for sleeping like the dead when he was tired, and now was no exception. He worked too hard and his thickly, muscled body was proof of that. 

She frowned as she took in the dark, smudges below his eyes, the result of the call out the day prior no doubt. Virgil’s exhaustion was evident in his haphazard, supine posture. The little she had garnered from John on her return flight to the island inferred it had not been an easy rescue and by the looks of things, it hadn’t. 

Reluctantly reaching out, Kayo plucked out a small, silver earbud, the tinny sound becoming slightly more audible with its release. He couldn’t stay here, the regret for the decision would be bear like in the morning when the early risers in the house invaded the quiet space and Kayo had grown rather fond of her adopted family. 

“Virgil…” She called softly, leaning in to brush her lips across his stubbled jaw line. “Babe, you can’t spend the night here.” Fingers ghosted across his brow, her own furrowed at the light sheen of perspiration that greeted her fingers. It wasn’t that warm in the villa. 

Her bear was a difficult one to rouse, but experience taught her the soft approach was the best course with him. Less chance of growling that way. 

Rubbing a hand in a careful circle over the thick pads of his pecs, her encouragement to wakefulness continued “Come on, love.” 

As the flannel of his shirt caught up slightly her focus shifted. Her deft fingers made short work of of the fastened buttons and she carefully pulled one side back shaking her head in disapproval.

“Shit, what did you do to yourself this time?” Her words slipped out on a sigh of frustration. Virgil’s broad chest was swathed in gauze, the bruising already apparent despite the loose binding that circled his chest. One side was heavily padded with packing and an obvious slash of red was a stark contrast to the clinical white. 

“I’m okay.”

Breath catching, Kayo looked up at the gruff voice and was greeted by a hooded, tourmaline gaze. Brow arching is disbelief Kayo sat back on her haunches the ‘Ya, right. Try that again’ blatant in her expression. 

Stretching, he was careful to catch his wince of discomforted behind a rough swipe of his hand over his face. Hiding behind the act of rubbing the fog of sleep away, he came to the conclusion that it was easier to capitulate to her silent demand than to continue his charade of denial. That, and he hated worrying her. 

“Bruising, couple cracked ribs, minor laceration. A round of antibiotics chased with some NSAIDS (2) and icing.” Shifting he sat up and settled his feet on the floor on either side of her, catching her hands in his as she moved to take a closer look at his injury. 

“I’ll be back up in the air in a couple weeks.” He brought her fingers up and brushed her knuckles with his lips. Her eyes narrowing at the distraction, she’d seen his wince of pain and even now as she watched his arm slipped around his torso to brace against his ribs. 

Shaking her head she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. He knew as well as she, more so even with his extensive medical knowledge that cracked ribs were not something that just healed overnight. 

Stealing her hand back from him, she cupped his cheek and frown at his tired expression. Her scowl softening as he turned into the contact and placed a kiss on her palm. “What happened?” 

Virgil sighed, tucking loose strands of her hair off her face. “Water drop too close the fire break.” He didn’t supply that the 4000 gallons of water he’d been caught up in had sent him on a jolly trip down a ravine. A sharp dip in the landscape where he was promptly introduced to previously toppled, denuded Douglas fir. The evidence of that meeting spoke for itself in his beaten body so there was no need to waste the energy vocalizing it..

“Ouch”

“Yup, that about sums it up.”

“I bet Scott had some choice words for that.” Kayo supplied as she leaned up and into him, her arms settling around his neck.

“There are some forestry personnel seriously considering career changes at the moment.” Here he drew her in and kissed her forehead. “That’s once they find a why to extract the size elevens out of their posteriors.”

Kayo winced at that pleasant picture. Scott angry could be an impressive thing to behold. Scared for his brother and royal pissed off, that was ‘End of Days’ petrifying. As in, you better hope the world explodes and your well and truly dusted before big brother sets his chilly sights on you.

“Speaking of …where is he?” Her peridot green scanning around. Even at this hour, the commander of iR and acting president a TI would usually be found at his father’s desk plugging away at some random report or cost analysis what-not. 

Virgil dragged in a breath, held it a moment and let it out on a slow exhale. Dual purpose to expand his sore rib cage fully and to gather his scattered thoughts accomplished. 

“Bed”

“No way, at this hour?”

The mmhmm that followed that was loaded. “I convinced him, through no small amount of grief and threat of physical pain, that should he not get some rack time I would tranq’ his ass.” Kayo was impressed, getting the great Scott Tracy to concede to something as logical as sleep was no simple task. It was Virgil though that had requested it but still.. would have been easier to convince John out of orbit…

A sleep tousled head nodded. “He had a raging tension headache and was sniping at everything with a pulse.”

Kayo had an ‘ah ha’ moment, “That explains why Grandma has fled the island.” Tracy 2 had been curiously missing from the hanger and there had been no mention of the family matriarch having any mainland plans. 

“I would have tagged along but someone had to be here to keep the island afloat.” Leaning back against the couch with a groan he dragged her with him. She acquiesced and settling down beside him, tucked her legs up under herself. “That and I wanted to warn you that Scottzilla was in residence.”

She grinned and leaning in caught his lips with her own by way of thanks. “Well, my report will hold until he unhulks…dehulks..?” She blinked as she contemplated her wording. 

Virgil chuckled softly her ear, his scruff scratching against the sensitive skin reminding her that her lover was a little worse for wear and in dire need of a proper bed and a solid 8 hours horizontal. FAA regulation dictated that duration of sleep as a minimum between long haul flights and though they couldn’t always abide by the rules in this regard - people needing rescuing didn’t prescribe to a schedule - they did their best to at least try to. 

Unsanctioned as they were they still had keep the GDF happy. Since their Godmother knew where the island was located, Virgil was fairly certain she would ground their asses if there was any outward signs of blatant disrespect for the rules that governed the rest of the planet’s aviation stock. So to keep their tickets they made sure to toe the line between what was regulation and what was not. 

Taking a moment to enjoy the relative silence the night brought with it, Kayo allowed her head to list to the side and settle on Virgil’s strong, solid shoulder. Hearing the deep intake of air through his chest as he sighed, Kayo glanced up at his profile. 

“It’s been a shit 48 hours.” 

Brow dropping, Kayo turned his face towards hers. Looking into his tired face, her thumb brushing back and forth across his cheek. “Tell me.” She prompted gently. 

Virgil closed tired eyes and winced. Pain apparent in the pinched lines between his dark brows. “Firefly pod had a drive sprocket failure…must of been a micro fissure in the alloy that didn’t get picked up on its recent maintenance inspection. Slipped a tread and we missed an evac window when the wind suddenly shifted.” 

“Equipment failures aren’t unheard of even for us. It happens..”

“It’s my job, Tin.” 

“Virgil..”

“There was a logging crew up the backside of Butlers Peak….” Virgil started and stalled out. Forcing himself up to his feet with a grunt as his pent up emotions threatening to explode all over the room, he started to pace. Hands dragging angrily through his already disheveled hair.

A grimace passed over Kayo’s features. It was never easy to lose a rescue but casualties happened in their line of work. There was just no way to save them all. This though, was different. Losing a person due to circumstances out of their control was one thing. Losing someone due to something they could prevent was another thing entirely 

“I’m sorry,” It was the only thing she could think of to say. “Have you spoken to Scott about this?” 

The one shouldered shrug she got by way or response not really providing the answer she was looking for. John had warned her just prior to landing that things were a bit tense, he just hadn’t elaborate on how much. His over-professional manner and quick dismissal should have been enough of a hint. John tended to mask himself behind professionalism and distance when he was stressed.

Scott and Virgil had clearly had words on the topic..a lot of good that had accomplished by the looks of things.. and she was fairly certain Johnny could have heard it from 22,000 kilometers away. Their Grandmother must have put some sort of cease fire into effect and was the likely reason she had vacated the island. The space provided by her absence meant to allow the two brothers to sort things out without fear of her intervening if things were to escalate. 

Kayo watched him pace around the table knowing that in his current frame of mind there was no guarantee anything she said was going to help. For one, Virgil needed to be open to hearing her first. For another, he was just done - physically, mentally and emotionally. What he really required was time and a piece of furniture better suited for sleep other than the too short couch. 

Bringing his trek around the coffee table and the still muted holo-vid to an abrupt stop, Virgil dropped his head. He was turned away from her, his shoulders hunched with discomfort and exhaustion. His previous efforts to physically exorcise whatever storm was churning in his head too much for what his usually robust frame could currently handle. 

Swaying had Kayo on her feet and at his side in a blink, her lean strength steadying him. “You need to be off your feet. Preferably sleeping.” 

“Ow..” He said through gritted teeth. 

“You idiot,” Came Kayo’s chiding remark. Facing him she peaked up through the tangle of his limp hair, his forehead coming to rest against hers. 

Drawing in a breath, Kayo picked up on clinical scent of antiseptic and the faint, acridness of wood smoke. It spoke volumes to her that the remnants of the day still clung to him. Like the morose set of his mind needed a fetid spectre so it wouldn’t be easily forgotten. Not like that would happen with any haste, anytime soon.

The rock of her adopted family, felt things deeply and she knew this well. The calm surface of his demeanor was but a thin curtain to the depth of his feelings. The emotional scars he carried ran deep and were kept private for the sake of his brothers. A front in place that he needed to maintain so he could help keep his family on an even keel. 

As close as Virgil was to Scott, Kayo was the one person privy to everything that lay beyond it. Providing what comfort she could when he needed it and even sometimes when he refused to accept it. Even now as she wove her fingers through the inky black of his hair, she could feel the tension in his frame. Pained as he was from injury, the tightness in his shoulders was not likely to depart until he fought his way tooth and nail back to his center. 

For now though, Kayo would stand guard. 

8-8-8

Gordon paused at the door to his older brothers set of rooms and knocked lightly. Surprised but really not all that shocked when the door slid open and Kayo was standing on the other side. Hair hanging in loose waves around her shoulders, the dark chestnut strands catching the subdued light from the hallway in a halo of hickey. 

Garbed in an over-sized Denver Tech shirt that he was pretty sure belonged to his brother, he blinked and tried his best to school his emotive features. The healing aquanaut had only recently lost his walking cast and the last thing he wanted to do was set Tanusha Kyrano on an irritation warpath. 

Glancing into the room at her back, Kayo stepped out into the hall and with arms crossed leaned against the door jam, her brow raised in question. If looks could kill Gordon was pretty sure he would be a tiny pile of sand at her feet so he resisted the smart ass comment that was brewing on his tongue. 

“Yes, Gordon?,” she said with a bored expression, adjusting the crew neck collar of the faded, maroon shirt as it slipped to one side off her shoulder. The BEST, worst kept secret on the island; his brother’s relationship with the security expert. Gordon had always been curious on how that had started but hadn’t wanted to intrude on the elder’s privacy. For all of Virgil’s attention to the going-ons in his siblings’ lives, he was extremely private about his own. A thought that perhaps that reason was why his adoptive sister was drawn to him came floating through Gordon's mind. 

Stowing that epiphany away for later, Gordon gave himself a shake. “Oh.. uh, I brought this up.” Holding a cold gel pack out and a soft hand towel. “Figured he could use it. I know how much he hates to admit to discomfort and this is better than Grandma setting her sights on him… I should know.” His stomach was still recuperating from that attention. 

Taking the offerings, a soft smile lit Kayo’s face. “I’ll make sure he uses it” 

“I’m sure you will” Turning to head off to his own room for the night, he stopped. “How’s he doing?” 

Gordon was only too aware that if he asked Virgil himself, his brothers would be less than forthcoming. Virgil despised worrying the others and if anyone had the inside scoop, it was the slender woman standing in front of him.

“Tired. Sore. Exhausted.” In more ways than one. “He’ll be alright.” 

Gordon gave a nod, he knew what that was like…they all did. 

“‘I’ll, uh…leave you to it then.” He remarked and turned to leave. 

“Gordon?” Her quiet voice drifted out to his retreating back and he did an about face, walking backwards down the hallway. “Take care” Seeing her gaze drop to the knee he was favouring, he knew he was busted for his late night swimming marathon. Before he could respond though, she ghosted back into the dark room and the door shut with a gentle click. 

TBC

Notes:

(1) Nomex - fire retardant, synthetic fabric

(2) NSAIDS - smart way of saying Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs


	3. Nothing Ventured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are broken still..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vegetable notes: I use real places names in this chapters and no offense is/was intended anyone if you happen to be in or near the places mentioned. After that, everything else is purely fictional and/or adapted to fit.
> 
> Soundtrack: Thornley for the most part with a spattering of Tea Party
> 
> Characters: Virgil/Kayo, Gordon/Penny , Scott and Brains 
> 
> Rated: Currently teen due to language. 
> 
> ENJOY!

Cloak and Dagger

Chapter 2: Nothing Ventured

8-8-8

Pulling the door closed, Kayo turned and ran smack into a familiar blue, twill weave. Scott grunted at the sudden impact, his hands coming to brace her at the near miss with the floor “Kay, whoa!” 

Righting herself, Kayo took a step back. “Sorry, about that. I…” 

“No, it was my fault.”

“Let’s agree to disagree then.” 

Putting some distance between them Kayo watched as Scott forced himself into a casual posture, hands shoved into his pant pockets, shoulders down and seemingly relaxed. To anyone else the pose would look just what it was expected to look like. To her, it screamed the opposite. The fine lines of tension around his eyes and the muscles working along his strong jaw as he clenched and unclenched told her another story completely. 

Rocking back on his heels, his eyes strayed from her to the door and back again as if he was expecting someone else to come through the thing. 

“He’s already up and about.” She took mercy on him, knowing he was struggling with his need to mother-hen. Pulling her loose hair up and off her neck she quickly twirled it into a bun and fasten it into place with the a black hair band that was ever present at her wrist. 

Scott watched her well practiced movements a moment and she registered exactly when her words sunk in. Virgil was by no means a morning person. It was barely past 7 am and the man was renowned for his love of sleep. 

“Oh…” Kayo blinked, not the reaction she had expected. Scott was off his game this morning but by the looks of him, he hadn’t faired much better than Virgil had last night. She’d seen the same look on Virgil’s face this morning as he had stumbled about in the pre-dawn light - as graceless as ever before his coffee fix.

She could read the brothers like a book and Scott was no different. For all his military training and commanding attitude the worry for his sibling was obvious. “He mumbled something about running diagnostics, post flight checks and cataloguing inventory losses but you know what he is like before caffeine.” 

“Damn…” An expletive from Scott this early in the day didn’t bode well. “The call out was a bad one and the mission debrief didn’t go so well.”

“I assumed it hadn’t,” She’d observed quite a bit since she’d returned, “Considering everyone has either run for the mainland, ghosted the island like it might explode, turned into uber professionals or has just up and disappeared.

“Disappeared…?”

“When did you see Brain’s last?” She countered, not expecting a reply and carried on as if she hadn’t been interrupted. Brow raised, her green stare scanning with little remorse over Scott. “Oh, and you and Virgil look like shit.” 

“Gee, thanks” Kayo shrugged with nonchalance.

“I call it like I see it” 

“Love you too” There, an uptick close to a smile flashing into existence. It was the reaction she was looking for from the straight backed, slightly too contained shell he was putting on. She could work with this now.

Stepping away from the entry to Virgil’s sanctum sanctorum, Kayo put a hand on Scott’s shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze in support. “Go talk to him. I’ll be in the comms room when your ready.” 

8-8-8

Scott stepped out of the elevator onto the catwalk overlooking Two and sighed at the music that greeted his ears. Rock blasted with the heavy beat of drums through the massive space. Ricocheting down off the ceiling and reverberating in the grating beneath his feet. 

Dropping his head, he rubbed at his stiff neck. Audible proof that things were in the shitter with Virgil via Thornley, circa 2002. His brother’s music choice was usually a good barometer to his mood and Scott was about to walk in on it. 

“Have fun with that.” Scott, looked over at Gordon as he limped up the stairs.. 

“Thanks.” 

“He’s in a real mood today if he’s broken out the oldies. You may be taking your life in your own hands if you go in there. “

“Noted, “ Scott looked down to the open blast door some 200 ft down that separated the main hanger from the module storage bay and subsequently where Virgil could be found in his workshop. 

“I’m off,” Gordon turned, looking with appreciation and longing at his craft floating in its aquatic launch. “I promised Alan I would call him and distract him from the boredom of shopping with Grandma.”

“No physio this morning?” Scott asked with a look of concern as his brother rolled and re-rolled his left shoulder 

“Nah, taking a break today.” Gordon looked abashed at this and failed to meet Scott’s eyes. “I may or may not have over done it yesterday...a bit…” 

Scott look skyward and prayed for strength, this family was going to make him fully grey in no time. “And you’re worried about me going down there?” He pointed down below and snorted. “If Virgil or for that matter, Lady P finds out you know what will happen, right?” 

The shudder that went through Gordon said he was well aware of it. “Please don’t. The images I have in my head about what Kayo is going to do to me is disturbing enough. Don’t add to it.” 

“Kayo knows?”

“Busted me last night.”

“Sucks to be you.” Scott winced in sympathy

“No shit”

Shaking his head, Scott ruffled the fish’s hair as he passed by. The scowl that was returned for his efforts ignored as he set off down the stairs. 

“If you don’t make it back, I’ll make sure to ask John to erase your browser history. Can’t have Grandma finding out about your disturbing extracurriculars and your hamster fetish…” Scott stopped in his tracks at that but Gordon was already safely stowed away in the lift on his way back up to the main house. 

“Brat..” 

Hands tucked in his pockets, Scott strolled across the hanger and made his way around the massive supports of Two. The great, hulking beast was up on her struts. One of her nesting modules parked below on the heavy tracks built specifically for trundling the huge cargo crates across the expanse of chemical resistant substrate topped flooring. 

Stepping across the embedded components of the pod conveyor system and through the reinforced bay door into the orderly storage area beyond, Scott marveled at the deceptiveness of the place their home was built around. To say the hanger was big was one thing but add in the hidden 1300 foot length of the storage area and the place was massive. 

The area, though only the width of about 500 ft at its widest, housed all of the modules, pods, grappling lines, fire suppression gear and spare parts needed for the large, green ‘bird. All of it stored away in specific, tidy, very well maintained numbered bays and lockers. 

It was a running gag between the Brothers that if you moved anything a millimeter in any one direction that Virgil would know instantly and without thought; like some OCD zombie, move said item back into its rightful space. Gordon had even tried it a few times for shits and giggles with varying degrees of success. 

The aquanaut had learned quickly not to do this though when he found himself locked in his owner bathroom, covered in biodegradable glitter and spray cheese… how and when Virgil had rigged the shower, was anyone’s guess.. Gordon though hadn’t tried to ‘adjusted’ the placement of anything down in storage since. Never mess with an engineer. 

To this day, Scott knew that Gordon was still finding flecks of glitter stuck to his person or in random other places. Scott was pretty sure though that Virgil was the culprit there with those instances, placing little, glimmering pieces here and there around the island where he knew his younger sibling would find it. A little subconscious reminder for good measure.

Mentally slapping himself with a silent curse Scott closed his eyes. He was procrastinating. Letting his mind wonder about as his body did so he didn’t have to confront the disagreement from the night before. This was the epitome of going against the grain of his character. 

Sucking it up, he peered around module 2. The door to the crate was down, the light from within casting shadows on the alcove that clever mechanic had claimed as his space.

Virgil was sitting at one of the work stations. The chair was tipped back on its hind legs, his steel toed clad feet up on the utility bench, teetering the wooden chair back and forth. In his lap, Scott could make out the pale blue glow of a computer interface his brother was flicking through. Adjusting levels and tweaking air intake ratios with the expertise of a conductor with an orchestra.

The music, though not something Scott considered enjoyable, played through the large concussion fire suppression system and from this distance the interference caused by the echo of the hanger was negligible. The module padding and design itself helping to insulate the reverb caused by the massive speakers. 

Max was wheeling about in the limited confines of the module, seeming to dance along with the music. Mechanized arms pin wheeling around as if he was directing the course of the notes. 

“Max, switch tracks please.” Polite as ever, even to an automaton. The song quickly flipped over to another tune and the melody shifted to something with a bit more pep. “Ugh.. next” 

“I think this would be classified as a misappropriation of resources.” His brother barely glanced up at that, dark brows dropping down as some readings flashed across the interface that he didn’t like. 

“The sound system I originally installed in here is distorting the lower octaves at higher volume. The sub woofer needs to be upgraded.” An off hand remark, “So I improvised.. Dual purpose, I can check the frequency output at the same time."

Scott plucked the display from his brother’s lap, looking over the present data on thrust to air intake ratios. “Multitasking I see” 

“Passes the time. ” 

They sat in relative silence for a while, neither one willing to break the stalemate they seemed to have found themselves in. As one song ended and another started up, Scott bit the bullet. 

“How are the ribs?” 

“Sore”

Scott looked his brother over, he’d pulled his overall down and looped the arms around his waist, the thin muscle shirt underneath dampened with sweat in a few places but relatively clean. “Adhesive bindings?” Scott questioned as he noticed the medical tape under the thin material up his left side. 

Virgil shrugged, “The discomfort is more manageable this way.” At Scott’s sigh he quickly added, “Not tight enough to restrict respiration. I know what I’m doing, so leave it alone, Scott” 

“Okay, Okay,” Scott put his hands up in surrender. His brother did not want to be coddled. Scott resisted the urge to say more on it. Last thing they needed with Gordon being out of action still was Virgil being bed ridden with a chest infection. 

Virgil dropped his feet to the floor, the heavy soles thunking on the raised metal sheeting that covered this section of the work space. Grimacing he got up and straightened his spine by sheer will power alone against the obvious physical ache. Once accomplished he stalked over to a tool chest “What do you want, Scott?” 

“Nothing, just checking in.” 

A roughly opened drawer was equally thrust closed again. Small blister pack of pills in hand, Vigil broke the seal on two of the tablets and dry swallowed the lot. “Bullshit.”

Anger simmering, Scott resisted raising to the bait and took a calming breath. Maybe coming down here wasn’t such a wise idea.

‘Fine, I came to apologize for yesterday. I was out of line and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you or the useless forestry service supervisors.” 

“Apology accepted, now if you will excuse me..”

“Come on, V. You were almost killed yesterday. I was and still am worried about you.”

“I’m fine, Scott.” Virgil tossed the blister pack on the bench and grabbed a socket wrench. “Ribs will heal, this is nothing. I have had worse.”

“I’m not talking about your ribs and you know it.” Facing off with his brother when he was in this sort of head space was never a good plan. 

Virgil was known as the calm and collected one in the house and due to such was usually the sounding board the others went to when needed. But under the calm surface and rock steady nature was a man that felt deeply, more so than any of them could ascertain. And Scott as close as he was to his stalwart sibling, could see that the impact of yesterday was sending ripples out in ever widening circles of self doubt and blame. 

Scott counted on his brother and he wanted to provide that same support back. Their almost preternatural bond forged by a tragic, shared history had solidified them into what they were today and Scott would do whatever he could to protect it.

“I said ‘I’m fine.’ ” The slight hitch said otherwise as the wrench he was holding was slammed down on the work surface. Head down between tight shoulder, arms braced as if he might cave in on himself. “Just leave it, Scott.”

The pleading in Virgil’s voice had Scott backing off. “It wasn’t your fault, Virgil.” 

“Scott, please..” 

Coming up behind the second eldest Scott placed a hand on the back of his neck, “Okay, I hear you 5 by 5, little brother.” And gave the tight muscles a reassuring squeeze, instincts screaming at him. He knew though that pushing would get him nowhere. 

“When your ready to talk, come find me.” 

8-8-8

Kayo hit the volume controls on the holo-vid and crossed her arms as Kat Cavanaugh sat up primly with the introduction to her segment. 

"Thank you, Albany." Kat nodded in gratitude, her voice confident. Cavanaugh had upped her game since her rescue out by the Gran Roca Ranch. Her show having gained much popularity with her first hand account. The world at large was crazed for any information on the clandestine organization that was International Rescue and she had quickly shot up in the reporting ranks. 

So much so that the international community at large was now listening. With an added co-anchor, Albany Crenshaw the sphere of her world had changed from basic rag gossip to world wide events. Set changes, advertising, content and even personal appearance had been buffed to a high sheen. Success in every angle. 

Her once, rather laid back appearance giving way to well groomed, professionalism. A slick bob set off the features of her face adding a maturity that the barrettes of the past had lacked. Dressed up in a wool jacket and a fine print, split-neck blouse she radiated respectability all topped off with a dusting of make-up in neutral tones. Nothing out of place, everything poised and polished. A far cry from her previous casualness. 

Angling herself just right in the studio lighting, her lips turned up in a competent smile. “Good evening, I'm Kat Cavanaugh. Tensions in Kazakhstan are on the rise tonight amidst continued civil unrest as protests and riots break out across the country." 

Since October’s Military back coup by Socialist party leader, Mikhalev Lukyan Grigorievich there has been an outcry to the world nations for his removal. 

Grigorievich, who took control from interim leaders after the sudden death of President Alexandra Danilovna, seized power in an overnight raid in the country’s capital of Nur-Sultan.” 

In recent years the country has fallen on civil and economic hardships with the depletion of its hydrocarbon production and the forced closure of the counties mineral mines due to civil rights violations. International amnesty groups have reported that this along with the abysmal work conditions and the country’s strict policies against assembly are major contributors to the continued upheaval. 

Additionally, unsubstantiated reports of clashes between the Kazakh Renewal and Reformation Coalition and military personnel has lead to a media blackout in Almaty. Rumours supplied by asylum seekers at the Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan borders speak of an increased Military presence within the city limits and a steep escalation of violence. 

The GDF and the World Union has been surprisingly quiet on the topic. Issuing only that the area has been declared a ‘No Fly’ zone and that all non-Kazakhstan citizens should avoid the area or head to the nearest embassy for evacuation.” 

Several notes of interest followed relating to food shortages and power interruptions but the gist of the news coverage was that the region was in complete chaos and it was not likely to end amicably any time soon. The big question, Kayo pondered as she adjusted the volume to a near whisper with Scotts arrival, was what the GDF was going to do anything about the situation? Could they even do anything about it without crossing into a territory that could divide the world at large. And if so, did they even have a right to? She found the lack of an easy and clean cut response disturbing. 

International incidents were avoided these days with great effort but something told her in this case something was going to have to give to bring this conflict to a head. It was either that or watch a country with a population of some 23 million people either starve to death or completely self destruct. The stability in that part of the world would be shattered in the power vacuum. 

Nodding her head towards the moving 3D holographic image above the table, Kayo uncrossed her arms and walked over to the desk where Scott had just parked with a grunt. “This is going to get messy before it gets any better.” 

He made a vocal note of assent and took a sip of the coffee he’d brought in. Smelt like Virgil’s Sumatran blend she noticed offhandedly. “Looks like it, been playing on repeat all morning. With the GDF evacuation in effect more and more information is leaking out across the borders. I am expecting the GDF will make a formal request of us eventually but as of yet, they have been quiet on that front.”

“Formal request?” Kayo cocked a brow, “You think they are going to bar us access to the area if there is a call?” 

Scott shrugged, setting his cup down on the report ridden desk. “I have no idea, Aunt Val hasn’t said anything yet but she’s been a bit tied up.” He waved his hand towards the holo cast, encompassing everything going on in that area of the world. 

“For the time being we will just have to play it by ear.” Rubbing at his eyes, he changed his focus and glanced at the time. “Lady P is supposed to be calling in shortly, if you don’t mind the wait.” 

Kayo shook her head and leaned against the end of the desk. The morning sun was starting to heat things up again outside, and it was threatening to be a record setting high. 

“How is he?” Came the inevitable question. 

Kayo glanced back over her shoulder, assessing. It was unsettling for the brothers to be at odds. “You went and saw him, what do you think?” 

“Fuck.”

“That sounds accurate.” Last night had been rough and Kayo wasn’t known for sugar coating. One of the reasons her and Scott worked well together for the most part. He appreciated her blunt and direct nature. Softening as she saw the matched set to the bags under Virgil’s eyes on Scott's face she tact on, “Give him time. He need to process things on his own. You know as well as I do that forcing things with him before he is ready isn’t a viable options. He’ll be fine given enough space and when he is ready he will come to you.” 

“Ya, I guess you’re right. I’m just …” His words were cut off as a signal from their London agent come through. Mouthing an apology to Kayo, Scott opened the channel. “Lady Penelope, right on time.” 

“Scott, darling. You look dreadful.” 

Lips drawing into his trademark Scott Tracy one-sided smirk, he tilted his head to the side. “Good to see you too.”

8-8-8

Head still down, Virgil stayed silent at his brother’s parting words. The gently supportive squeeze a physical reminder that no matter what there was someone there for him if and when he wanted it. 

After a moment he gave his head a shake. Enough of this crap. Time to get back to work. He had system analyses running on Two that needed to be monitored and an intake manifold for the rear, right VTOL had to be tweaked as the mixture ratio was off somehow - he suspected carbon deposits from back washing exhaust through a main intake to be the cause but he couldn’t be sure without removing the cowling and several other components. Hours of work ahead. 

This could of course all be done automatically but Virgil like to be hands on with maintenance, tweaking and adjusting where needed to get the most of of his craft. He knew his ‘bird intimately,having crawling over and under every part of it. He enjoyed losing himself in the work, seeing what he accomplished at the end of the day like rebuilding an engine, overhauling a control panel or relay. It was good, honest work that left him feeling satisfied. 

Yes, there were some days that things didn’t work out as planned. Some frustration caused by an answer eluding him, the challenge presented keeping him up sometime well into the early hours. But when the solution finally presented itself, the sense of achievement was phenomenal.

And finally, there was the pod drive sprockets. 

He needed to know how he’d missed the damage. Their procedures dictated that visual scans be conducted after every mission so that any broken or damaged parts could either be repaired or outright replaced. In addition to that, during the decontamination and cleansing process, scanners in the washer bays would look for possible stress points. Virgil had looked over all of those scans personally as he did every time and he hadn’t seen anything. 

He’d looked over the scans again this morning and still there was nothing there. So what had he missed? He’d thought that maybe complacency had come to the fore. Having done the process so many times, human errors could easily account for it but one thing Virgil prided himself on was his attention to detail. It’s what made him a good engineer. 

Looking at the interface, he let his brain zone out with the hopes that the answer would jump out at him. If the procedure wasn’t the issue, maybe there was another angle he wasn’t seeing. 

They could micro-scan the metallurgy, test for stress points and density but they had too much equipment for that. It would take weeks of fine tooth comb’ing it to go over all of it, There had to be another option available to them. 

Turning, he took in all that was parked, stored and at the ready for whenever they got a call out again. Clean, orderly and poised for use at the drop of a hat. Geared up to be shunted into modules with a couple flicks of a finger and off into the air in a matter of minutes but what the hell was he missing? 

A thought came to mind that had Virgil toggling his comms. “Hey, Brains?” 

“Virgil, w-what can I do for you?” The genus’s 3D holographic image suspended above the receiver built into work desk flared to life. Brains was the other side of the hanger by One but it was just easier to call then haul his ass all the way over there and back. 

“The wash-bay scanners been calibrated lately?” 

Framed glasses slipped down a narrow nose as the relevant information was pulled up. “Uh, three w-weeks ago. Why? Is th-there something wrong with them?”

“Just a hunch. Can you run it again and do a system analysis?” 

“That will t-take some time. I have the bulk of the island servers dedicated t-to the zero-x build.” 

Virgil dragged a hand down his face. He didn’t have any other options right now. “Do what you have to and let me know if anything comes up.”

Brains’ image nodded. “R.A.D”

Virgil only rolled his eyes a little as he closed down the connection. 

TBC


	4. Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pieces are falling into place...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Veg●notable: Okay, I had a little fun with this and took a few liberties with one of the boys… It worked for I wanted but I am not sure how it will be received... ::ducks behind a Tracy so she doesn’t get hit with anything...::
> 
> Also I am kinda being a pantser with this chapter.. I have a general idea of where I want it to go but I didn’t suss it out like I have in other chapters so please excuse if the pacing if off. I kinda let the Boys tell me where they wanted to go and what sort of interactions they wanted to have….and they may have gone a bit off course.. 
> 
> As per the norm.. All errors and such are my own. 
> 
> Read, review, like, reblog.. Whatever the platform, it is very, very much appreciated and it all acts as my motivational fuel.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> o0o

Scott drummed his fingers along the careworn surface of his father’s desk, his gaze lost to the middle distance as he thought over the information that had just been brought to him. Not that there was much, which was the problem in and of itself. 

Kayo and Lady Penelope had had very little to tell him. After Fuse’s botched attempt at the old, disused power plant to obtain nuclear material he’d just up and disappeared. Their security expert and London agent had been traipsing around the globe trying to track down leads for weeks now but there was no sign of the Chaos member, his sister or for that matter the Hood… anywhere..at all. 

For the Hood on his own, it wasn’t that unusual. The criminal would go quiet for a spell and not resurface for months. Now that he was with the Crew, that was an entirely different story. 

Normal some tidbit of information would crop up of a sighting in some far corner of the world, or a rumour of some heist or another would drift about on the dark web. Either Lady P would poke at it to figure out if it was worth further effort or Kayo would get a call from the GDF to check with some contacts but everything had gone silent. There was nothing, no where. 

Scott looked up at the muted holo-cast. A variation of the same headline scrolled along under the chrome anchors’ desk and something in the pit of his stomach tightened. This eerie feeling of foreboding had been dogging him since the plant and he just knew this wasn’t going to end well. 

Picking up an old school stylus that for some reason his father had kept even with the advent of modern computer interfaces, Scott examined its length. His father had owned it for as long as he could remember. He’d once asked Jeff why he insisted on keeping it and his father had smiled in that way he did and had said that ‘somethings were just worth keeping.’ He hadn’t elaborated in any other way or given any other hint to his reasoning after that. It left Scott scratching his head in confusion. 

Even now all these years later he still didn’t understand though as he looked at the smooth finish and felt the weight of it between his fingers, he could understand its appeal. It provided something tangible to hold on to, tactile. 

In his case not only physically but it also provided him with a psychologically connection to the man they all missed so much. A man he truly wished was with them right now. 

Maybe the great Jeff Tracy would be able to wrap his head around all this, come out with a master plan so at the end of the day the world was a better, safer place. Scott certainly didn’t think he had the chops to do it himself. Self doubt was a bitch especially when there was no supporting hand to guide you. 

His father was going to come home, Scott knew that for sure. WIth Brains basically locked away working on the zero-x engine it was only a matter of time. Scott just hoped that when they got their father back…. Why was he even thinking about this? Setting the stylus back down, he rubbed at the back of his head in hopes of dispelling the direction of his thoughts. This was not helping. 

Snagging his forgotten cup of coffee, he took a swig and grimaced. Cold and it was the good stuff from Virgil’s hidden stash behind the lima bean in the pantry. Eyeballing the drink with its thin layer of cream film on top, he sighed and tossed the rest back. It was too much effort to haul his ass downstairs for a fresh cup, besides his brother would kick his butt if he were to find out he knew of the existence of the rich, smoky ground beans and had wasted it. Better to just suck it up and deal with the cold brew then risk the engineer’s wrath. 

“Thunderbird 5 to base.” 

“Hey John,” Scott greeted with the raise of his now empty coffee mug. “What’s up?”

“Just letting you know Grandma is on approach. Will be there in t-minus 5”

“Thanks for the heads up.” 

John nodded in return and they sat in silence for a moment. By the controlled look on John’s face Scott could tell that the monitor was working up to say something more. Leaning back in his chair, he cocked a foot over one knee and steepled his fingers as his brother processed whatever it was that was on his mind. 

Scott didn’t want to push but time was ticking. “Johnny….?” He knew the use of his brother’s childhood nickname would get the ball rolling. 

John’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at the moniker but the redhead let it slide. “How’s it going down there?”

Scott dropped his hands, pushed up to his feet and walked the short distance to the sunken seating area. “As well as can be expected.” Taking the steps down he parked on his usually couch with a heavy sigh. Sinking into the cushions with a slouch and tossing an arm up and over the back. 

“That sounds...” John paused as he searched for the appropriate word, “to steal a phrase from Alan.. craptastic.”

One shoulder went up in a shrug and Scott dragged in a deep breathe. “Ya, well. Shitty situation but you know how these things go. Time and space and all that.” 

“Time and space?” A smirk settled on John’s face. “This coming from you. Eos mark down the time and date. Scott is being reasonable” 

“Time and date noted, John.” Came the young voice of the A.I. “I have also taken the liberty of recording this interaction for posterity in the likelihood that you want to revisit the momentous occasion.” 

John chuckled as the light ring came into the view field of the camera. The array of little lights flashing in what Scott could only conclude as amusement at his cost. The A.I was learning and learning fast and Scott didn’t know how to feel about that. 

“Hardy har.” A dry sound, accompanied by an eye roll. “Am I really that bad?”

The stare and awestruck look he received by way of answer should have been enough.”Aw, come on…” 

“If smother hen was in the dictionary, Scott. You would be the picture beside it.” It was said rather frankly and that irked Scott into yet another eyeroll. “Matter of fact, it might actually already be in Urban Dictionary..” 

“Okay. Okay..I get it. Enough already.” Scott’s boredom and disdain at the direction of the conversation wasn’t hard to miss. “I can’t help it. I worry about all of you.”

John took pity on his elder brother, the smile leaving his face. “I know you do, Scott. Especially when it’s Virgil.”

Scott sagged further into the couch. 

“We all need to fall apart every now and again. The same applies to Virgil.” John spoke, his voice carrying across the distance. “As much as we rely on him to be the family rock, even a rock wears down over time when enough stress is applied.”

“Ya, I know. You’re right.” Scott leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he looked at the floor. “I just wish…” He didn’t finish his train of thought. 

“Scott, he’ll be fine. Just give him the room to breath and in a day or two he will be right as rain again. He needs to stew this over a bit.” John shifted his gaze away from the cam, his projected hand skimming over something off screen. 

“Well from what Brain’s has told me, Virgil has him doing system checks on all the wash-bays. Maybe an answer will be there for him.” 

“You talked to Brain?”

“Yes, just before calling you. He wanted me to look at some computations. Double check his math and he didn’t want to bother Virgil with it” Floating about the space station some 22,000 kilomitres above them, John glaced backup a moment. “Why? Haven’t you talked to him?”

Scott sat up a bit straighter, sheepishly ashamed that the yelling the night before had sent the mousy genus into hiding in the bowels of the island. “Not since we got back..” 

“Oh,” John failed to hide the nonplussed expression that flashed across the screen. “Glad I was off world last night than..:”

“Jay, you’re always off world”

John couldn’t say anything to counter that and Scott knew it. The star obsessed Tracy rarely made landfall and Scott tried to think back on how long it had been since the astronaut had been forced to submit to some down time. 

“Scott, you’re getting that look in your eyes again.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I need to smother’ look that comes with the forehead wrinkles of the elderly.. Don’t you dare set your sights on me. I am needed up here with full access to all of 5’s systems and you know it.” 

Scott put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to have another sibling forcibly shutting him out. “Message received and watch the old person jokes. They are laugh lines not stress.. The hair though, that’s all from you guys.”

John looked off camera again and his expression changed from brotherly bemusement to curious. “Aunt Val is reaching out. I’ll patch her though.”

Scott cursed under his breath and ignored the admonishing glare from space. Seemed he hadn’t sworn as quietly as he thought, good thing Gran….

“Scott Bartholomew Carpenter Tracy!” 

Scott flinched at the sudden loud bark of reproach directed his way as his Grandmother marched into the room, fire and brimstone in her wake. “You were not raised in a barn, young man.” Crap, his diminutive elder was not impressed, especially if she broke out the little known and seldom used ‘Bartholomew.’

He was the only brother out of the five to be graced with the additionally middle name, gifted to him as the first born from his great, great Grandfather. A Tribute to a war vet that his father had been blessed with as well and one that made Scott shudder every time he heard it. 

“Well technically… “John piped up earning him a warning glare from Scott. 

“Gee John, thanks for the warning.. “ Scott grumbled with little enthusiasm and dripping with sarcastic annoyance. 

“I did,” John blinked. 

Scott contemplated several ways to seek revenge over the tirade of the fierce and feisty Sally Tracy and most of them involved airlocks and a module full of moldy bagels.

John did his level best to hide his smile at the misfortune of the eldest. “I told you she was on approach and you know she has the ears of a bat, Scooter.” 

Scott glared at the space nut but all he got in return was a very large grin before the monitor disappeared and the 3D rendition of his Godmother materialized. 

“Colonel Casey” Scott acknowledges, his Grandmother patted his knee in greeting and settled down on the couch beside him, the vexed look still sparking in her cerulean gaze. 

“Valerie,” His Grandma piped up. “You’re a sight for sore eyes” 

“Scott. Sally.” A crisp, formal acknowledgement. Definitely a business call. 

The tone made Scott straighten his spine, posture ramrodding as his years of military training kicked in. Pushing to his feet, the Commander of International Rescue took up the forefront of his mind. The dilemma of the current Tracy drama brushed aside as the call to arms; so to speak, was issued by his honorary Aunt’s projected persona. 

“What can I do for you, Colonel Casey?” 

“Orders come down the pipe, Scott. General Abner informed me this afternoon that World Council has declared Kazakhstan a no fly zone. All personnel, both combative and civilian are on evac orders effective immediately. As of 23:00, anything in or outbound found crossing restrictive airspace will be termed hostile and dealt with accordingly.”

“And as our liaison..?” Scott asked, bracing for the answer that he feared. 

“I’ve been advised to inform you that the restriction extends to International Rescue as well. Under no circumstance is International; Rescue to enter that airspace. Any action will be seen as an act of aggression against the WC and those perpetrating said act are to be shot down.”

“Noted.” 

“Scott, you need to abide by this ruling. This is from way up the food chain. There will be nothing I can do to help you if these orders are disregarded. “ Casey stressed. “You will be on your own. I’ve also been instructed that anyone aiding and abetting is to be brought in and prosecuted under the full force of the law.” 

Meaning, the whole family would be under threat and the whole might of the GDF would be pointed in their direction. Even though they claimed no allegiance to any known entity, International Rescue and by turn the Tracy’s would be marked as traitors “I understand Colonel.” 

Essentially the country has been walled off and Scott wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He just hoped that there would be no call out for iR in the vicinity of the damned country but he knew from experience hopes and wishes were very seldom taken into consideration. 

-o-o- 

Some 6,500 km away, tucked under a remote mountain village on the furthest edge of Kazakhstan a display monitor beeped to life with the flow of garish, green text. Servos hummed, fans ticked on and a smile crept across the harshly angled face with amber eyes. 

Piece by piece plans that had taken months to arrange were finally starting to come together. Money had passed hands, people had been bought, information exchanged and like pawns on a chessboard, the players were shifting into their places.

Looking at the board, the queen slipped into place and unbeknownst to all but one, the king now sat vulnerable. The end was in sight. 

Let the games begin. 

TBC


End file.
